Sweet B
by somethingmeaningful
Summary: An AU between Prince Gumball and Marshall Lee set in and around a university and it's surrounding city.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hi all! This is my first crack at this, so if you could, let me know what you like and what you think! If this is something you'd like to read more of, let me know!

Thanks,

sm

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Chapter One.

I woke up by myself this morning. I wasn't shaken by my alarm clock. I didn't jolt out of bed with nature's urges. There was no one next to me poking my side asking me to make breakfast. This was happening all too often. 5:47. I have woken up exactly 13 minutes before my alarm clock is set to go off every day for the past two weeks.

Frustrated at my circadian rhythm, I turned off the alarm that was now 11 minutes away from going off. Now's as good a time as any to wake up I suppose.

The bedroom floor was cold. I felt for my slippers with my feet while reaching for my glasses on the night stand. I found my black plastic glasses and slid them on to see why my feet were failing so miserably at slipping my slippers on.

I then found my left slipper was on my right foot, and that the right slipper was halfway under the bed, backwards. 5:52 laziness made me try to get the shoes on with only my feet. 5:53 reality made me bend over and put the shoes on the right foot.

Closing my eyes and letting out a sigh, I stood up from my bed. I immediately turned around and started to fix the mess I had left throughout my slumber. The sun was slowly starting to creep over the hills in my window, and I figured that this was as good a time as any to make myself some morning tea. I finished folding the comforter and placed the duvet at the end of the bed and then headed for the door of my bedroom.

It opened out into the hallway of my one bedroom apartment. It was small, but it would do. I was nearing the end of my second semester of my third year at university, so I figured I would only have to stay there for another year or so.

Mocha, my black cat, mewed at the sight of me. He sat perched atop my couch, bathing in the little sunlight that was beginning to peek through the curtains. Mocha expected food, so when I got to kitchen, I reached for the plastic bin that held his food atop the fridge. He heard the small bits shaking in the clear container and quickly glided over to the kitchen.

He walked slowly behind my bare calves, tickling my calves with his whiskers and tail. Mocha started to mew faster as I bent over to pick up his bowl. I placed the bowl on the counter and began to fill it with the Meow Mix. I closed the bin and put it back in its place on the fridge. Opening up the cabinet next to the fridge, I grabbed the heartworm medicine that the vet had prescribed for Mocha. I broke off a capsule and put it on the top of his breakfast. I returned the bowl to its regular place and placed my hand on Mocha's head, letting him rub the sides of his face against my knuckles. Mocha slid through my cupped hand and arched his back and tail then went for his food.

My love for Mocha was a little excessive at times, but he's the only family that I had within a 2000 mile radius. I was the only child of a family that was viewed as "New England Royalty." As respectfully as I could, I sat my parents down and told them that the life of a "Connecticut Playboy" was not the life I wanted. With much protest, they agreed to let me go to a non-Ivy League, southern school, and I ended up in Austin, Texas.

I reached for the tea kettle on the stove with one hand and reached for the knob in the other. The water slowly filled up my little pink kettle that my best friend had bought me before leaving for Austin. I popped the top on and let it begin boiling on the stove.

I left the kitchen to return to my bedroom to grab my phone that was charging on the night stand. I unplugged it from the cord, and unlocked it. I began to check the different notifications that I had gotten throughout the night while attempting to not run into any walls or doors on my way back to the kitchen.

After making it back to the tile floor of the kitchen, and checking the 14 emails I had gotten from 11:30 last night to 5:57 this morning, I leaned up against the countertop of my kitchen. By the time I finished looking at who retweeted me and liked my status, my kettle was whistling. I put my phone on the counter behind me and grabbed my white mug by the sink. This again was a gift from friends back home. It was my favorite mug. Tall and white with a big pink "B." I poured the boiling liquid into the mug and grabbed a tea bag from my jar by the stove. As the tea was steeping, I pulled open the cabinet and reached for a spoon and poured five spoonfuls of sugar into the warm beverage.

I stirred the tea, grabbed my phone from the counter, and headed towards my back door. Despite my parents calling the entire state of Texas "a backwards red state" they still supported me. My mother had personally chosen this apartment for me, and, as long as she paid the rent, I couldn't complain. It really was a nice place. Wood floor, granite in the kitchen and bathroom, stainless steel appliances, all high end things that my mother insisted I had in this "hell hole."

My favorite part of the apartment was its views. Outside my bedroom window, I could see the Texas Hill Country. From my balcony, I had views of the capital building. It was nice to see Austin wake up every morning from my back porch.

The rest of my notifications came from text messages from friends and classmates. I responded to each with my usual chipper nature, if only for the purpose of waking them up at 6:01. I sipped my tea and looked out over the city. I saw my school which prompted the thought process of what my schedule looked like for that day. After finishing my tea, I would go back to my room and pick out my clothes for that day. Then I'd change into my workout clothes and go to the gym on the first floor of the apartment complex. Once I felt close enough to death by cardio, I'd come back here and shower and change into my normal clothes, put my contacts in, brush my teeth. Then I'd pack everything up, grab a bagel and go to class at 9. After the hour and a half class, I was free until work at 3.

"Damn. Work today." I said to no one in particular.

I swallowed the last little bit of tea in my mug and left the balcony. I put the cup in the sink to be washed later, and went to my bedroom.

"I guess this is where my day starts." I thought to myself.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Chapter 2! I got motivated! Once again, tell me how I'm doing! Read and review! There have been a few name changes to make the AU a little more normal, hope you guys don't mind!

Thank you,

sm

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Chapter Two.

In reward to myself for having such a good workout, I decided to use the elevator to get back up to my apartment. The doors were metal, so I could see an incredibly distorted reflection of myself. I had grabbed one of my dad's old Yale shirts and a pair of black running shorts. In the reflection, I looked like a large blob of dark colors with four splotches of white across my chest.

The elevator was on its way up to the 16th floor of the building. I unfortunately had gotten into the slow elevator and knew this would take a while.

I started to pass the time to look for a different song to play on my phone. When I found one I wanted within five seconds, I was back where I was six seconds ago. I sighed as I saw that the elevator had only managed to get to the second floor.

Thinking it was something an athlete would do, I started to stretch in the elevator. I stopped after the elevator lurched and threw me backwards while I was touching my toes.

Fifth floor. Making some progress.

I looked back at my phone and saw I had missed a call from my mother while I attempted to run 3 miles without stopping. By missed I mean ignored. It's not that I don't love my mother. I just don't like her. For now at least. Her last five calls have started out innocently enough with small talk about classes and work. They then take a turn for the worst when she starts to ask when I'm going to marry a "nice Connecticut girl" and move back. I usually jokingly respond with "never, mother, you shall have no grandchildren to inherit the crown."

She left a voicemail and as the elevator was snailing along at the eighth floor, I decided that there was nothing else I could do to waste time.

"_Bubba dearest,"_

She knows I hate being called that. It's not even my name. They just call me that because they named me after my grandfather and didn't want to confuse the old guy. Benjamin. Benny. Ben. Benji. I didn't care as long as it wasn't Bubba.

"_it's me your mother,"_

Shocker.

"_I'm just calling to check in on you. The last time we Skyped you looked so gaunt."_

The last time we Skyped? I thought about when the last time I Skyped my parents was. Midterm week. That's right. Mom decided it was great idea to video chat with me while I looked like boxing 12 rounds daily. Mother.

"_Anyway. I ran into your friend, oh, what's her name, Francine? Fanny?"_

Fionna.

"_Fionna? That's it. Anyway. I ran into her at the Trader Joe's, oh by the way,"_

Here we go.

"_they just put a Trader Joe's in down the street from Dad's office, have you ever been to one of those? They're fantastic. I love it! I bought this Organic Almond Butter Spread there and I have been eating it out of the jar since I got it!"_

They put the Trader Joe's in last August. I can just imagine my mother being surrounded by all the hipsters who shop at Trader Joe's.

"_The only thing is that there are these weird hippies who shop there,"_

Hippies. Okay.

"_Anyway. I saw your friend Fionna there. Is she a lesbian? I saw her holding hands with that Cate girl she's been friends with for ages now. I don't think its right. I don't have a problem with them being lesbians. I just have a problem with the fact that Cate is nearly 20 years older than Fionna."_

Really? You're 15 years younger than dad…

"_But anyway Benji, I called to see how you were. I miss you! I wish you would call me more often. Love you."_

Yet another great voicemail from my wonderful mother. Fortunately, the elevator had managed to get to the thirteenth floor. Only three more floors to go.

I anxiously rubbed my arm with my hand. I lifted up my sleeve to examine my upper part of my left arm. I scratched at the pink birthmark on the front part of my shoulder. My dad's shirt was big enough to where I could pull it and fully see the odd birthmark. It looked almost exactly like a wrapped piece of bubblegum. So weird.

Finally, the elevator ride from hell ended. The opening of the doors brought me back to reality, and I stopped picking at my birthmark and got out of the elevator.

I reached behind me and pulled my knapsack from my back and opened it. Inside I found my keys and pulled them out, trying to pick out the key that would get me back into my apartment.

With the right key in position, I unlocked the door. I pushed it open and immediately the cool breeze of air conditioning was a welcome climate change for my sweaty body.

I plopped down on the couch and threw my knapsack next to me. I glanced at the clock above my television and saw that it was 6:45. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in.

An overdramatic noise may have been made when got up from the couch a few minutes later.

I plodded to my room and put the knapsack on my closet door handle to stay until I did the same thing tomorrow morning as I did this morning. As I put it on the handle, I turned the spherical object so I could pick out exactly what I was going to wear that day.

The entire left half of my closet was a distinct shade of orange. College has many benefits. Free shirts being one of them. The rest of my closet was divided between button-ups, regular shirts, shorts and pants, all of varying colors.

It was a little chilly when I went out on the balcony earlier that morning. I checked my phone to see what the weather would be later in the day. Austin weather had the tendency to change from pleasant to hell within a few hours.

High of 74. Not bad. I grabbed a long-sleeved white t-shirt that had my school's name printed on the front of it in that distinct shade of orange. I grabbed a pair of black jeans for the bottom half of my outfit. I then reached for the white high tops that were at the bottom of my closet. I was happy with what I was wearing that day. My wardrobe changed drastically when I moved from Connecticut to Texas. Mother always bought me my clothes, which were usually white button-ups and argyle sweaters in some god awful color combination.

I threw the clothes on the bed and I went into my little bathroom. I took off my sweaty Yale shirt and my running shorts and tossed them into my hamper by the linen closet. I glanced at my now naked body in the mirror. I looked like a pretentious Connecticutian. My slightly pink tinged, pale skin made it look like I never went out into the sun. I made the resolution then and there to actively try to get skin cancer and tan more.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Here's chapter 3! I hope you guys like it so far. I know it's going slow, but I promise that it will get interesting here shortly! Once again, tell me if you like it or if you have any comments, I am totally open to hearing them. Additionally, I am going to try to do a little pattern to publishing. I will try (_try _not _promise_) to do two chapters every Monday and Thursday! Also, if anyone would like to sketch any of what happens, I am not opposed to that in any way shape or form.

Legal jargon: don't own Adventure Time.

_Yet._

Thanks,

sm

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Chapter Three.

My mirror was fogged up from my shower. I wiped a circle with my hand so that I could see my face in the mirror.

I grabbed my deodorant and lifted up each up putting some of it on each armpit. After each was sufficiently protected from body odor, I grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste and cleaned my teeth.

I held the toothbrush in my mouth as I walked into my bedroom. I headed straight for the dresser and opened the top drawer, looking for a pair of underwear to slip on under my damp towel.

My eyes searched the empty drawer. Really? I had no clean underwear?

Annoyed at this latest discovery, I quickly walked back to the bathroom and finished brushing my teeth. I rinsed my mouth with a palm-full of water and opened up my hamper. There were 6 pairs of underwear.

I then walked quickly into the hallway between my room and the main living area of my apartment. I opened the side closet and opened the dryer.

No underwear.

I slammed the dryer door which merited a mew from Mocha. I opened the washing machine and saw the 4 other pairs of underwear I had, soaking wet in a clump.

"Mocha! I have no underwear!"

Nothing but a mew.

Frustrated at myself for not doing my laundry, I stormed back into my bedroom. Wanting to get the wet towel off of my waist, I quickly dried the rest of the residual water and slipped on my jeans. After zipping and buttoning them up, I went back in my bathroom. I opened a drawer and pulled out my hair dryer. By this time, the mirror had defogged and I looked at my wet hair.

My first and only act of "college rebellion" was to bleach my dark brown hair and dye it pink. That lasted for a month before I decided I hated it. The dark, chestnut-y brown was finally back and I was happy with it.

The dryer was doing its job as I brushed my hair into what I wanted it to look like. I then grabbed my hairspray and made sure my hair was going to stay where I wanted it to.

The excessive use of hairspray was one of the many things that I picked up from living in Texas.

Semi-happy with my appearance, I went back into my bedroom. I glanced at my alarm clock and saw that it was 7:10. I grabbed my shirt off my bed and threw it over my head. I rolled up the sleeves and checked the floor length mirror in the corner of the room. My hairspray did its job.

I sat down on my bed and slipped on my high tops on each foot. I tied each shoe and fixed my jeans over the top of the shoe.

I put my hand at the back of my neck and rolled my head around once. After rubbing the top of my back, I stood up with a sigh. I stepped towards my desk and grabbed my backpack that was resting at the side of my workspace.

I closed the Calculus book that had kept me up the night before. I grabbed the lined paper that had the assigned exercises on it and stuffed it neatly into the pocket of the folder that it was resting atop of. Calculus is the only class that I have today. The next four Calculus classes are the only ones that I have left in the semester. The rest of my professors had assigned their finals last week and I was now awaiting grades for these courses.

Putting the book and folder into my backpack, I took the bag over to my bed. I grabbed my phone and my wallet and put them in the front pocket. It was then when I remembered that I had work that afternoon.

I rolled my eyes and trudged back to my closet to grab the top half of my uniform. Opening my closet, I could spot it immediately. It was lime green and said in white letters "Bonnie's Bakery" on the left chest. On the back it said "An Austin Tradition." Hardly. Bonnie opened up the place six months ago and I was her only employee. I really didn't mind working for Bonnie. I also really didn't mind working at a bakery. I loved it actually. Bonnie told me that I could experiment in the back with recipes near closing time when we weren't that busy. The only thing I didn't like about work was the people we served. Bonnie knew that the more posh and affluent neighborhoods of Austin would be more willing to spend twelve dollars on a slice of cake. Pretentious soccer mothers with their messy kids would come in and ask questions like "is there a gluten-free version of this?" and "can I get this cake with this frosting?" and "what's the difference in red velvet and chocolate cake?" It was like Connecticut all over again.

I folded the shirt and put it in the pocket of my backpack where my book and folder were. With that, I was nearly ready to leave my apartment.

It was 7:18, and I knew that finding parking, especially now near the end of the semester would be a major pain, so I wanted to leave by the latest 7:30. I lived about 10 minutes from campus, even with Austin traffic, so it was super convenient.

I slipped my backpack on. I looked at the floor length mirror once again. I was attractive? Maybe. I had a nice face, I thought. I mean it was clear and I had pretty teeth. But I had a really goofy smile. My eyes were really light dark blue nearing purple. I liked them. I wasn't too muscular, but I was skinny. Luckily, working in a bakery and doing quality control checks hadn't caught up to me yet. I then turned to the side and looked at my butt. I had a really big butt. Well not super huge, but it was pretty sizeable. And my chicken legs didn't help it look any smaller. I think I would give myself a 6 out of 10. Maybe.

I realized I had been checking myself for two minutes. I decided that I should probably leave before this went on any longer.

I flicked off the light switch and my room went dark. I walked through the hallway and into the living room. Swinging in the kitchen, I opened my fridge and grabbed a V8. I put the bottle in the netting area of my backpack and bid Mocha a farewell and turned the lights in the apartment out. Goodbye apartment 1613. I'll see you later.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: And here's chapter four! The first interaction of Marshall and Gumball! As always, let me know how I'm doing!

Legal jargon: Don't own Adventure Time...apparently, 14 dozen cookies doesn't work as currency in this country. I don't like a country where I can't buy things with cookies.

Thanks,

sm

((((P.S. I need some cover art for this, if anyone would like to give me ideas/actually do it for me, that'd be great! Thanks guys!))))

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Chapter Four.

From my seat in the lecture hall, I could slowly see the seats fill up with students. By five minutes before class, nearly all the seats were taken. It's funny what a final worth 40% of your grade will do for your attendance numbers.

I laughed to myself thinking about how I didn't see any of these kids throughout the year, between learning about the Fundamental Theorem of Calculus to Differentiation. Luckily, I had managed to have a seat open on both sides of me. Granted, one of them was being taken up by my backpack to avoid a rather large man encroaching on my already small desk.

My luck ran out rather quickly when I saw someone making his way down the aisle, presumably coming for the only open seat in the row.

I watched as he straddled strangers' laps and tripped over feet and backpacks and water bottles. I felt so embarrassed for him, but he was laughing? I think he just cracked a joke with someone he just climbed over and they're laughing? This guy was taking this so well. I would've been mortified.

He was about three people away when he looked at me. He smiled and eyed the seat next to me. I nodded, guessing that's what he wanted. The guy then took off his backpack mid-straddle and handed it to me. I awkwardly grabbed it, vastly underestimating the weight of the backpack.

By the time I finally got it set up under his seat, this guy seemingly out of the blue was standing in the empty space between the chair and the next row of seats. He laughed "thanks for saving me a seat."

"Oh—I didn't—ugh" was all I could manage before he formally introduced himself.

"Marshall Lee, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Yes. It very much so is."

_It very much so is? _Jesus Benji.

Marshall Lee looked at me with a quizzical look. "So do you have a name or do you just jumble up sentences for introductions?"

Right! Formality! I'm supposed to tell him my name.

"Bubba."

"Bubba?"

_Bubba? _Why'd I say _Bubba_?

"Ben. Benny. Benji. I meant Benji, I'm sorry."

"Benji?"

"Yes. Benji. I am and preferred to be called Benji."

_Am and preferred to be called. _On a roll here.

"Alright."

Marshall Lee's nonchalance made me envious. So much so that I missed his question the first time, and only heard the tail end of it when he repeated it.

"—lend a pencil?"

"Hmm?"

"I said. I don't have any pencils, do you think that you could lend me one for today?"

Embarrassed that my rudeness made him repeat the question three times, my cheeks reddened. I reached for my pencil pocket and pulled one out as quickly as I could, while at the same time grabbing my V8. Maybe my 8 fruits and vegetables could help me form coherent sentences and have decent conversation with strangers.

I handed Marshall Lee the pencil to which merited the response, "thank you. Do you actually like that?"

"What? The V8?"

Well there you go. V8 helps you form coherent sentences and have decent conversations with strangers.

"Yeah. It seems pretty disgusting."

I laughed a little as I looked at my bottle of red liquid. "I mean, it's a taste that's different, but I really do love it."

Two sentences in a row. Here we go, let's go for three.

"Sure you do. Can I taste it?"

"Oh—ugh—if a taste would be enjoyable to you then of course."

Got greedy. At least I got two in.

"It's probably not going to be enjoyable but," Marshall Lee then took the bottle from my hands and proceeded to take a sip, "it's okay."

"I think you like it and you just don't want to admit it."

"Maybe," Marshall Lee said with a wink.

Then our little conversation ended as our heavily-accented professor started the lecture for that day. During lecture, I would catch Marshall looking at my notes and trying to read what I had written, and then write that. I figured that Marshall was one of the "slacker-students" as my professor so lovingly calls them. The kind of student that only showed up at the beginning and end of the semester, and for the tests. I could never do something like that. I just, really liked to learn I guess. I also had the inclination that if there were any reason for me to go back to Connecticut, my parents would take it, and so I didn't want bad grades or poor attendance to make go back to New England.

During dull moments of lecture, when our professor was answering questions from other students, I would glance at Marshall Lee. He was busy whipping his head from his notes, to my notes, to the projector screen. I was glad he was a little preoccupied with this, because it gave me a little time to actually look at the kid sitting next to me.

His skin had an olive complexion to it. His hair was dark, and looked as if it hadn't been brushed or sprayed for days, maybe even weeks. His eyes were pretty though. They were green, but they looked a little tired. I looked at his mouth, and saw his tongue poking out of his mouth as he wrote. That was, cute? What? I then travelled to his neck, and I saw an interesting pair of moles or birthmarks or something. They were two little circles, identical in diameter, about an inch away from each other, vertically aligned on his neck.

Unaware, my left hand started to drift towards his neck to feel the curious circles.

Fortunately, my conscious kicked in and decided that touching a strangers neck wasn't appropriate.

"They're birthmarks." Marshall said under his breath.

I closed my eyes out of embarrassment. I am also sure that I sank into my chair about a foot.

In an attempt to retain any dignity that I had remaining, I didn't look at or say anything to Marshall Lee for the rest of lecture. This proved much harder than thought.

The end of lecture couldn't have come quicker, and I threw my book and folder in my backpack, grabbing my homework before I shoved it in my bag. I jolted up from my seat and turned the assigned problems into my TA at the back of the auditorium and left the awkwardness of this Calculus lecture without once looking back.

When I thought that I was a safe distance away, I sat on a bench under a tree and pulled out my phone.

"This is why Mocha's my only friend." I thought to myself.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: The first part of the Monday June 2 update! I hope everyone enjoys it! As always, read and review and tell me what you think! I am having a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you guys are having a good time reading it! Bit of a longer chapter! Sorry guys!

Thanks,

sm

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Chapter Five.

I thoroughly believe in the power of music. That is why I had my headphones tucked into my ears, blasting my favorite songs, hoping "the power of music" could help to calm the embarrassment I still felt.

With my eyes closed, V8 in my hand, and music in my ears, I slowly regained my normal state of being.

Then, as my playlist transitioned from one song to the next, a push on my shoulder suddenly jolted me from my peaceful status. I jumped out of fear and felt my headphones be ripped from my phone, and my V8 fly from its resting state in my hand on my lap. I also become aware that I really had jumped backwards, and my back was now on the ground with my legs still on the bench.

When I had enough sense to open my eyes, I found Marshall Lee standing before me. I hadn't noticed until this moment that Marshall was wearing white jeans. I also noticed a giant red stain that consisted of 8 different fruits and vegetables. My 8 different fruits and vegetables.

My voice then worked after I saw my new addition to Marshall's pants.

"Oh—my—Marshall Lee, I'm—oh gosh—ugh"

Marshall cut me off before I stuttered even more, "it's fine! I'm sorry for scaring you!"

He laughed as he tried wiping the stain.

"I'm so sorry!" I managed to get out.

"Benji, I'm serious, it's fine, really! Just, come to the bathroom and help me try to get this out?"

"Absolutely!" It was the least I could do.

With our plan of action decided, Marshall came around the bench and bent to the ground. He offered me his hand, and I took it in mine. His hand was so incredibly strong and I quickly retained an upright position. I removed my headphones and threw them in my backpack. I pulled my backpack over my arms and started off towards the nearest bathroom.

It may have been the new wave of embarrassment, but I couldn't see or feel Marshall in my periphery. I glanced to my left and my right, looking where he should be. When I turned left, I saw him about five feet behind me. I awkwardly smiled and slowed a bit while he sped up.

He was now next to me, and I tried my hardest to avoid any more contact with Marshall.

This worked, and we successfully made it into the bathroom without any more touching. Marshall stood in front of a sink. He took off his backpack and set it on the ground. I saw him look at his jeans, and I then remembered that we were here to clean them.

I turned to the sink nearest me, and grabbed a few paper towels from the dispenser. I then turned on the water to get the towels damp. As I wrung them to get the excess water out, I felt a touch on my elbow.

"Did you get hurt at all?"

My body froze and I looked straight ahead in the mirror. I could see Marshall looking at my head.

"I don't think so."

Marshall Lee then looked into the mirror, meeting my eyes in the reflection. I turned to look at him. He met my eyes, and then scanned my arms for any bumps or bruises. To stop his eyes from searching my body, I handed him the towels I had dampened for him.

He took them and started wiping the V8 juice from his pants. I wasn't positive on how I hadn't noticed this earlier, but my drink had landed almost directly on his crotch. Because of its placement, I was now basically watching Marshall Lee wetting his private area. I looked away out of embarrassment.

After a minute or so, Marshall let out a laugh and said with a tone of disappointment in his voice, "I don't think these are salvageable."

I turned to look at Marshall's face.

"I'm so sorry," I started, "do you have any other pair with you?"

He nodded his head, "Nah, and I live like 20 minutes away. How about I just take yours?"

Marshall ended his sentence with a smile, making it obvious he was joking. I didn't fully comprehend at the moment that a joke was what he was intending.

My silence prompted him to remedy my shock.

"I'm just joking. I mean, it's not like you aren't wearing underwear. Plus, I don't think my butts as big as yours, so I'm pretty sure I couldn't get into your pants."

Within seconds, my face felt like it was housing every blood drop in my body. My stomach immediately knotted up and my mouth became incredibly dry.

"Oh my god. You aren't wearing underwear."

Marshall laughed, and touched my shoulder.

"Don't worry friend. I rarely do."

In an attempt to retain any dignity I had remaining, and to stop further embarrassing myself in front of this person I met that day, I spun 180 degrees. I realized how anti-social I must have looked, but for my own personal pride, I needed to keep myself decent.

I shut my eyes tight and started to walk away from Marshall. I then felt a tug at my backpack loop.

"Hey! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to—uhm—embarrass you!"

I sighed and stopped walking. I quickly gathered some courage and mustered out, "It's fine. I just need to go before I make a complete fool of myself in front of you."

I left that in the air and opened my eyes. I then walked out of the bathroom door, hoping to leave that situation with all the speed that I could.

As I rushed through the empty hallway, I began to feel the outside of my pockets, trying to find the bulge of my phone. My hand ran across my back two pockets and my front two, and I couldn't find it. Afraid I had lost my phone, I slipped one of my shoulders out of my backpack.

When this method of searching my backpack failed, I then took my other arm out and put my backpack on the ground, and knelt down to it.

I could feel my jeans begin to sink lower onto my hips and start to expose the top of my butt. I really didn't care because the classes in this building were in the middle of their lecture, and no one ever came into this building anyway.

After an intense search in the pockets of my backpack, I then heard a voice behind me say, "Are you looking for this?"

When I heard Marshall's voice, I rested my head on my arm that was extended into my backpack.

I muffled out "Yes."

He began to walk to me, and I stood up to retrieve my phone.

Marshall handed me my phone, and I grabbed my backpack off of the ground. It was still open, and I saw him looking into it.

"You work at Bonnie's?"

"Wha-?"

"The shirt, you work at Bonnie's?"

I then remembered I had packed my work shirt with me that morning.

"Oh. Yea. Do you know it?"

Marshall smiled, "Yea, it's right around the corner from where I went to high school. My mom always raves about it. She's like, the queen bee of that area."

Glad that our conversation had veered to a safe subject, I eased into lying "oh really? All the ladies who come in are so sweet!"

Marshall laughed and shook his head, "No they aren't. They're all vampires for attention. They all try to one up one another. All of them. They're freaking batty."

I laughed, "Thank you for saying that. I am contractually obligated to think that our customer is the only person who matters in the world. But sometimes I can't see why they are the only person in the world who matters."

Marshall snorted through his nose.

Making sure that Bonnie never heard this, I added, "I didn't tell you that okay?"

"Okay, sure," Marshall got out between laughs.

When he calmed down, he handed me my phone that was still in his hands. I knew our conversation was close to an end, and I was unsure how to proceed.

Marshall took the lead.

"Well, thanks for saving me a seat in Calc today."

I laughed awkwardly, "oh yea, of course."

"Uhm—there's a new contact on your phone. You should check it out. Bye."

Marshall then walked by me in a hurried pace, and shouted as he was leaving the building, "the top of your ass is cute!"

I shut my eyes tight and gripped my phone.

Wait until Mocha hears about this.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: And here's the second part of the Monday June 2 update! I know I cut it close, but I hope that you guys like this one! It's another long chapter, and a set up chapter! Please let me know what you think of it, and if you guys like it!

Thanks,

sm

((((P.S. I still need a cover. I can't draw to save my life, so if anyone has any ideas, or anything, I'd love to hear them!))))

* * *

Chapter Six.

After my encounter with Marshall Lee, I concluded shortly thereafter that this day was the most embarrassing day I had ever experienced.

As I drove to work, I kept replaying the events of the day in my head. I thought about every awkward sentence I had said. I thought about how my hand almost touched his neck. I thought about how I spilt half of a bottle of deep red fruit and vegetable juice on Marshall's crotch.

I could feel myself blushing as I stopped at a red light. I was almost to work. Maybe work would help me to forget how awkward I am.

In an attempt to distract my thoughts at the current moment, I began to examine my steering wheel. Well. It worked. I knew that at this specific stoplight, I had a while. When it turned red, you didn't move for a long time.

My steering wheel was actually really nice. The stitching was nice, and the leather was pretty. On the side of the steering wheel, there were buttons letting me turn the music up or down, change the temperature in the car, change the music I was listening to, and about four other controls I hadn't ever used.

I had a really nice car. My parents bought it for me when I graduated high school. It was really unnecessary for me to have this nice of a car. I guess it was just their way of showing their status as "New England Royalty."

The light turned green and I accelerated. I drove two more blocks and made a right.

Traffic wasn't that bad, but I had gotten to work 13 minutes before I needed to. How funny.

I knew Bonnie wouldn't mind if I clocked in before I was scheduled to start, so I got out of my car and went into the bakery.

Of course, Bonnie was behind the counter, arranging the cupcakes in the glass case. Bonnie was an incredibly eccentric woman. She was a 56 year old woman with the spirit of a 6 year old. Her hair was a huge curly mess that surrounded her face, and didn't fall past the middle of her neck. I first met Bonnie at a "Taste of Austin" event at my university. This was when she had pink hair. Bonnie didn't like people knowing that she was over the age of 50, so she tried to hide the gray hair that had already set. However, as of late, I think she may have finally accepted that she will never make anyone believe that whatever hair color she chooses is her natural color.

With her head halfway in the case, I heard Bonnie nearly yell, "Benji! How are you honey?"

Bonnie's voice was another one of her identifying characteristics. She knew nothing lower than a yell.

I swept around the counter and went to the computer system.

"I'm doing great Bonnie! How are you?"

As I responded to Bonnie, I clocked in, and then turned to face my boss. I didn't really see Bonnie as a boss though. She was more like a crazy aunt than a boss.

Bonnie then pulled her head out of the glass case and looked at me. She wore her work uniform, a lime green shirt and jeans. She had on very large, very dangly earrings, made up of beads that varied in color. She wore glasses that were, at the moment, dangling from her neck, held up by a string of turquoise beads. Her glasses made her look really smart, but she didn't need them to be smart.

Bonnie had graduated at the top of her class from one of the best private schools in Texas. She majored in Biomedical Engineering and then went onto medical school. After she graduated, Bonnie became one of the best doctors in the Austin area. She opened up her own practice, and eventually built up an incredible reputation. Then, when she turned 56, Bonnie realized that she wasn't doing what she wanted to do. She sold her practice to another doctor, and used the money she received to both pay off her house, and buy a space for a bakery.

"I'm doing great love," Bonnie hugged me, "would you mind going back to the kitchen and grabbing the Key Lime Cake?"

I nodded, and turned towards the kitchen. I pushed open the swinging door, and saw the cake I was sent to retrieve. It looked delicious. Bonnie could bake really well.

I thought about what we would have to do that day. It was a Thursday, and we closed at 7, so it would be a pretty slow night.

As I pushed the door with my back, gingerly holding the cake Bonnie had made, I voiced the thought in my head.

"What's on the agenda for tonight Bonnie?"

When I didn't hear her respond immediately, I turned to where I thought she was, halfway in the glass case. However, when I looked, Bonnie was standing behind the glass case, pointing out some of the desserts she had made.

I then looked at who she was helping.

"Hey! I hoped you were working today!"

Marshall. Lee.

"You two know each other?" Bonnie asked with innocence.

"Yea—ugh-"

"We're study buddies for Calculus," Marshall finished before I could get any more out.

"Oh! How awesome! Well then, why don't you take care of him Benji! And you get something to eat too! You look so thin."

"Than—Thanks Bonnie. You sure?"

Why did I thank her for this? This was just another opportunity for me to embarrass myself today.

"Of course! I'll go get you if I need you!"

With that, Bonnie took the cake that still was in my hands, and placed it in the display case. She then swung back into the kitchen, to work on more desserts, or to maybe give me some privacy. I didn't know.

"So," Marshall started, "what's good?"

"Erm—well everything is pretty good here. What do you like?"

Marshall bent a little at the waist so to get a better look at the offerings.

"Is that a Red Velvet cupcake?"

He pointed to a red cake wrapped in a silver paper with white frosting.

"It is!"

"I love Red Velvet. I'll have two."

I grabbed the two cupcakes for Marshall, and then grabbed a slice of pound cake that was covered in a vanilla bean glaze. I loved Bonnie's desserts.

"$4.50."

Marshall paid for his cupcakes and took them. I followed with my pound cake.

"Where shall we sit to study?" Marshall winked.

"Let's go outside?"

"Sure!"

I made my way for the door, and held it open as Marshall shimmied his way a little too close to me. He then sat at one of the metal chairs that surrounded the wood table outside Bonnie's.

Marshall dove into the first cupcake, and didn't even say anything to me while he ate it in four bites. I slowly nibbled at the edge of my pound cake.

As he swallowed the last bite of his first Red Velvet, Marshall finally said something.

"I changed pants."

I angled my head to look down at his bottoms, and then quickly swung it up, realizing that I was once again looking at Marshall's crotch.

"I'm sorry again about that."

Marshall touched my forearm that was resting on the table.

"Benji. I'm serious. You're fine. It was my fault that I scared you."

I accepted that, because I felt he was sincere. Now that we weren't around many people, and were somewhat formally introduced, I didn't feel as awkward around Marshall. I explored my new comfort zone.

"So, what brings you out here? The university is like, 30 minutes away."

Marshall had begun his second cupcake, and put it down in the middle of a bite.

"Well," he said with a full mouth. After he gulped, he continued his sentence.

"I don't know. I guess I wanted to visit my family."

I must have shown my suspicion on my face, because Marshall then revised his statement.

"Okay. Honestly, I wanted to apologize for today. I don't try to make people feel awkward."

Surprised Marshall had told me this, I responded with newfound confidence that stemmed from this shock.

"I don't try to be awkward all the time. I just managed to be really awkward today."

Marshall smiled. He had an attractive face. It was one that was mature, but still had the light of mischievousness.

"You call it awkward, I call it cute."

I let out a laugh.

"I'm serious! Look," suddenly, Marshall's tone of voice matched his words, "I think you're kind of cute."

I looked directly into his eyes. They were serious.

"Well. Thank you."

Marshall laughed.

"Don't hear that too often do you?"

Marshall's accuracy made me look down at my pound cake. I played with the crumbs.

"No."

"I don't see why," he answered immediately.

This guy was being so sweet. I couldn't even comprehend this. What was going on? I was smiling now. This guy was being really kind to me and I was just incredibly confused.

I think he could tell I was a little uncomfortable within myself.

"You wanna know a secret?" He asked.

Relieved to change the subject, I responded, "Sure."

"I had a pencil. I had like, 5. I just, wanted to talk to you. And I know that I'm being a little forward right now, but I think you should know that you're cute."

My face froze in a moment of thrilled bliss. I couldn't say anything, and I think Marshall took it as me rejecting him. I wish I could've said something but, in that moment, I couldn't.

"Look, I'll leave so you can get back to work, but I just wanted to invite you to come to my show tomorrow night. I'd really like to see you there."

Before I could tell him to stay and keep talking, Marshall handed me a half-page flier explaining the details of the show. I didn't read it because quite frankly, my current state of surprise wouldn't let me. Marshall then got into his car, and drove out of the parking lot and onto the street.

I stayed sitting in the metal chair with three quarters of a slice of pound cake left, and two empty Red Velvet wrappers opposite me.

I then heard the front door opening and Bonnie came towards me with a gaping mouth.

"Benji! What was that? I watched the whole thing! Tell me everything! I couldn't hear a word y'all said but it was like watching a romantic comedy on mute!"

I looked at my eccentric boss.

"I don't—I'm not—I not sure what that was Bonnie."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Part One of the Thursday June 6 update! I hope everyone enjoys! Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!

Thanks,

sm

((((P.S. My birthday is tomorrow (the seventh)! Reviews and maybe some illustrations would be fantastic gifts(;))))))

* * *

Chapter Seven.

It had been a couple of hours after Marshall had left. I was reaching into the display case to get a slice of cake for a young mother who was too busy talking on the phone to pick up her small son. I put the cake in a plastic box and handed to her. She handed me her card and I charged her for the sweet.

She left without a thank you, and I was left alone again. Bonnie was in the kitchen decorating a special order cake, so I wasn't entirely alone.

After Marshall left, Bonnie had asked a few more questions. I think she got the message that I was as confused as she was when I didn't answer her. We cleaned up the remains of Marshall and I's snack and went back into the bakery.

"Hey Benj, can you come back here?"

I followed Bonnie's booming voice from behind the kitchen door. As I opened it, I saw her bent over, glasses near the tip of her nose, making a small fondant animal for the cake.

"Do you want to start icing that other cake for next Tuesday?"

"Of course!"

I was a good employee. Plus, icing was one of my favorite things to do.

Bonnie went to the large refrigerator and pulled out two medium sized circular cake pans. All four were Red Velvet.

I had the sneaking urge that Bonnie did this on purpose.

As she put them down on the metal counter that was our workspace, she smiled at me.

Now I knew Bonnie did this on purpose.

Bonnie went back to the fridge to grab the other two pans that held what would make up the cake.

"What's the frosting for this Bonnie?"

"Oh fudge, where did I put that order sheet?"

Bonnie then proceeded to go on a search in the tiny kitchen for the order sheet that had written on it the instructions for the cake I was about to work on.

Knowing that she had given me the Red Velvet cake on purpose, I decided to make her think she won.

"What did you think of Marshall Lee?"

Bonnie was elbows deep in a filing cabinet, and paused her search. After a moment had passed, she went on with the one-woman manhunt.

"Well, from what I could see and lip-read, he seems to really like you."

I played dumb.

"What makes you say that?"

Bonnie was smart, and knew that I knew that she had given me the Red Velvet cakes on purpose.

"He really came all the way out here to eat a couple of cupcakes? Benji, I'm an optimist, but I know my Red Velvet recipe ain't that great."

I smiled.

"So what if he does?"

"You tell me."

Bonnie had this way of acting like a mother, while at the same time acting like a nosy sister. I guess it was good that I had a "mother-like" figure in Austin. It's nice that I can go to her and talk about things without worrying about her wanting to ship me back to cold, wet winters and clam chowder.

But what do I tell her? Do I tell her that I met this guy not even 12 hours ago and now I may or may not have interest in him? Do I say that he's made me feel more awkward in three interactions than I had felt in my entire life?

"I don't—I don't know." I laughed.

That was always a safe out.

Bonnie gave me a look through the top of her glasses and handed me the new sheet that she had just found with the details of the cake on it.

"I think you do, and you just don't want to say anything."

I smiled at how Bonnie had caught me in her trap while I was trying to catch her in my trap.

"Do you think I should go to his concert tomorrow night?"

She was now back working on more fondant animals.

"Why not?"

"Why not."

With that, I put the clipboard and its yellow sheet that listed all the requirements for this cake next to my workspace.

I eased the four cakes out of their pans and stacked them with strawberry frosting between them, as requested. I then pulled the vanilla bean butter cream the clients wanted on the outside of the cake. Within 30 minutes, I had frosted the cake and iced a scallop edge around the top and bottom of the cake.

After the base work, I looked back at the order form, and saw what was to be written on the top of the cake.

"I love you Beth."

My sudden break from silence brought a "hmm" from Bonnie.

"This cake. They want 'I love you Beth' across the top."

"Oh yes," Bonnie looked up from her now nearly finished birthday cake, "I remember this guy. He came in, and he was a really sweet guy, and really handsome. Anywho, he had told me that his girlfriend was going to be coming back from a business trip from Cleveland on Tuesday, and that he had set up an entire romantic evening. He said that they were going to go and have a private dinner on the river, and that he had ordered a few dozen roses and had gotten her a Tiffany necklace."

"Wow. This," I looked to see the name of the poor guy, "Finn fellow seems to be a little-"

Before I could finish, Bonnie jumped in, "amazing? Romantic? Fantastic? Wouldn't you love to have that for you?"

I laughed at Bonnie's sudden outburst.

"Not really. I mean," I reviewed the sheet, and saw again 'I love you Beth,' "it's not really my style I guess."

Bonnie pursed her lips at me and then sighed off my indifference.

"I think you have just never received such romantic actions. I'm sure if you did you would change your mind."

It was true. No one had ever been romantic to me. I had never gotten flowers or cake or chocolate covered strawberries. The closest thing was a surprise birthday party that I actually ended up helping plan.

Bonnie could tell that I had taken that statement and overanalyzed it.

"Maybe Marshall will be romantic to you," she attempted to lighten my mood.

I smiled at her.

"Maybe."

The rest of my shift included Bonnie talking about her long-time fling Earl. She had met this guy in college and they dated for nearly 20 years. She talked about how she tried to "change" Earl and "make him into her kind of guy" instead of just taking him as he is. The stories she told were riddled with advice in dating, which I took, be it with a grain of salt.

As we neared closing time, Bonnie let me go early.

"Go get ready for your date tomorrow."

Oh Bonnie.

As I drove back to my apartment, I kept thinking about the things that Bonnie had told me. I thought about the conversation I had with Marshall. I thought about a bunch of things. The drive home was long.

When I finally got back to my apartment, I collapsed into the couch and stuffed my face into Mocha's side.

"Mocha. This day."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Aaaaand Part 2 of the Thursday June 6 update! So sorry it's a little late, but my favorite sports team had a game tonight, and my friends wanted to take me out to see a movie so they could spend midnight of my birthday with me! Anyway, as always, read and review and enjoy everything! Also, thanks so much for the birthday love!

Thanks,

sm

* * *

Chapter Eight.

I woke up to a face full of fur. Confused, I propped myself up on my elbows.

"Mew."

"Hi Mocha."

Piecing the details together, I figured that I had fallen asleep with my face buried in Mocha's black coat. After I had solved that mystery, I then decided to check what time it was.

4:21 AM.

I sighed and rubbed my face. I pushed up on my elbows and sat up on the couch. Mocha climbed in my lap and started to knead my thighs. I had been asleep for 8 or so hours.

Not sure what to do, I just sat there and let Mocha knead. After what felt like ten minutes, I grabbed my phone that was protruding out of my back pocket.

I had a few messages, and an email. I ignored those, and went straight for my address book. I went straight to the "M's."

I found Marshall Lee's number. I wasn't sure what had come over me. Perhaps it was the fact that my mind was in its "4:21-in-the-morning haze" or maybe it was that I had just used my cat for a pillow for the past 8 hours. That was a different exploration for a different day. For now, I sat, and touched the "Message" option on my phone.

Quickly, my keyboard popped up.

My foggy mind decided to let me pour whatever words that came out come out.

_Hi Marshall. It's the guy whose ass you said was cute. Also you said I was cute. Whatever. Anyway. My cat has been kneading my thighs for nearly 20 minutes or something. I kind of wish you were kneading my thighs. What? So yea. I think you're really attractive and stuff. I just don't know why you think I'm cute. I spilled V8 juice on your crotch. Sorry. BUT ANYWAY. I'm coming to your show tomorrow night. Well I guess it's tonight now. Whatever. I just want to know what I should wear. Yea. Thanks. And sorry again. _

As quickly as I had typed it out, I deleted it all. That would be a disaster of a message to send. That had managed to clear my mind up, and I then decided to try the message again.

_Hi Marshall Lee! It's Benji! I wanted to let you know that I am attending your concert later tonight! I was just curious to know what I should wear?_

That will work.

I hit send.

I then realized what I just did.

"Shit."

I pushed Mocha back onto the couch and bent my body in half. I put my head between my knees, and covered my mouth. I let out a muffled scream, because, you know, it's like 5 in the morning.

As my mind kept over-thinking whilst in the middle of my legs, I felt my phone vibrate in my hands. I lifted my head from my knees, and held my breath. Before I dared to look at my phone, I held my eyes closed.

I finally mustered up the courage to look at my phone.

One new email.

"Oh my gosh."

I sighed and laughed simultaneously. I really should stop over-thinking things.

I pushed down on the couch with my hands and now stood upright in my living room, still fully clothed. After the relief I felt over the spam email I received, I had a general lack of care. I tried to kick off my shoes, and then realized that you don't really "kick off" high tops. I folded at the waist and began to untie my shoes. When they were finally untied, I did what I had wanted to do in the first place. Mocha didn't appreciate the shoe that flew at his head.

"Ohh, sorry Mocha."

Now that I had my shoes off, I walked out of the living room and unbuttoned my jeans. I was surprised both by the fact that I wasn't wearing underwear and that I had forgotten that I hadn't worn underwear that day. I stopped where I was, and made an immediately rotated my body to the left. I opened up my washing closet, and threw the doors to the washer and dryers open. I grabbed the underwear from the washer and balanced the wet mess in my arms. When I finally managed to put all the undergarments in my dryer, I placed a fabric softening sheet on the wet clothes and slammed the door. I turned it on, and closed the door.

I continued my walk back to my room. I grabbed the top of the back of my shirt and began to pull it up over my head. When I had gotten over my hair, I had made it into my room.

I threw my work shirt on the ground near my desk. I then had a decision to make: should I try to go back to sleep, or should I just stay up. While trying to make my choice, I felt my phone vibrate on my butt.

I grabbed it, expecting another email.

One New Message From Marshall Lee.

Well that made my decision. I won't be able to sleep tonight.

I unlocked my phone and looked at what Marshall had sent me.

_Hiya Benji. What the hell are you doing up this early? Anyway. Don't wear underwear(; just kidding. Or not. Whatever. Just wear jeans and a UT shirt or something. It really doesn't matter. It's Austin, people won't care. _

I stood there staring at the message and reread it a few more times. Maybe I wouldn't wear underwear. What?

Figuring that it was the right thing to do, I started to type out a message. I took a few steps and sat down onto my bed. I began responding to Marshall Lee's message.

_Awesome! Thanks for inviting me again:) I am so excited! _

Okay. Safe enough. I sent it and laid down back on my bed. I placed my phone on my chest and closed my eyes.

They quickly opened when I felt my sternum vibrate.

I grabbed my phone and looked.

One New Message From Marshall Lee.

_Of course! Also! Don't plan on ducking out after the show is over! We're hanging out afterwards!_

What.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Part one of the Monday June 10 update! I hope you guys like this one. It is more a substance builder for Benji. Part two should be coming either late tonight or early tomorrow morning. As always, read and review, and wait for the next few chapters(;. Also, if anyone wants to draw any of these characters as they appear in this story I'd love to see it. Especially Mocha, because I can totally see him being a super fat black cat.

Thanks,

sm

* * *

Chapter Nine.

I guessed that I had fallen asleep out of shock from Marshall's message. This assumption was an easy one to make because the sun was shining on my face, telling me that time had in fact passed since I was last awake. The fact that I still had my unbuttoned jeans on without a shirt also helped me to solve the current mystery.

I felt…dirty, like I just had a one night stand or something. I quickly buttoned up my jeans and sat up. My phone fell from my chest and into my lap. I pressed the top button and it lit up.

Three New Messages from Marshall Lee.

I unlocked my phone and opened the messages.

_Only if you're okay with it Benji. I don't want to pressure you or anything. _

That was the first. Then, "_I just want to hang out afterwards. Maybe get coffee or something. I'm not going to try anything."_

Finally, "_Not that I wouldn't. I mean, if you wanted to I'd love to, but if you don't then I won't. I'm sorry. I'll stop now. I understand if you don't come tonight._"

I laughed a little at how awkward Marshall was. Or how awkward I thought he was being. Or how cute he was being. What?

After reading the texts that Marshall had sent, I checked the time at the top of my phone.

10:56.

Wow. I never sleep in this late. I stood up, and stumbled over the bathroom.

I began to examine how I had survived the night. My hair was unruly. My eyes were full of red veins. I had put my contacts in before my workout and hadn't taken them out at all. My bare upper body looked weird. I guessed it was me being critical of myself.

Before I became any harder on myself, I decided that I should take out my contacts and shower.

My eyes stung at my fingers retrieving the lenses. I closed them hard to sooth the pain, and felt around the bathroom counter to find my glasses. I grabbed them as soon as I found them, and slipped them on.

I unbuttoned my jeans and reached into my pockets to take out everything before I put them in the hamper. I found my usual items: my wallet, keys, a cat treat for Mocha. I then reached into my back left pocket.

I pulled out a folded piece of paper. It was a beige color, and when I unfolded it, I read about the concert that I was going to that night.

_Rhett's Presents "A Night of Awestiness_."

I rolled my eyes at the very bad combination of "awesomeness" and "Austin."

_Music by The Abadeer's, Yvonne Gregory, The Taylors, and Delia Frost and the Puppets. Food and drink provided generously by Rhett Collier and Rhett's. Doors open at 6, show starts at 7._

I smiled at the names of these bands. I had no clue which one Marshall was in, but I really hoped it was the last one, because I automatically assumed that he would be a puppeteer, and that is a hilarious thought.

Placing the flier down on my counter, I slid my jeans all the way off. After reading about Marshall's gig, I kept thinking about him and his comment about my butt.

I turned around and checked out my naked butt.

"Mew."

"Oh Mocha!" I covered myself in front of my intrusive cat, "I was just—ugh—checking myse—wait, I don't have to explain anything to you. You're a cat. Leave."

Mocha took the hint that I wasn't happy with his visit, and left. I shut the door behind him and leaned against the now closed passageway.

I laughed and shook my head at my nosy cat and walked into the shower.

I turned on the water and tried to balance the faucet between too hot and freezing. Once I found a happy medium, I stood with my head hung down, eyes closed. The warm water hit the top of my head and dripped down across my face. I began rubbing my head with the water and started to move around in the shower. After making one full rotation, I got my loufa and put some of my body wash on it. I started with my arms and moved my way downward. When I felt I was sufficiently soapy, I grabbed my shampoo and put some in my palm. I lathered it up, and incorporated it into my dark wet hair. I then stood still again, letting the cleaning agents on my body do their jobs. After about five minutes of just standing, I moved back into the water flow. I washed off all the suds that had accumulated, and then just stood and looked at the showerhead, letting the warm water wash my face. I reached down and turned off the water and opened my shower curtain.

Showers were always good things for me. I had forgotten everything that had been bothering me before I stepped in, and now, I felt like a clean slate. I grabbed my towel and wrapped it around my waist. I checked my phone and saw that it was 12:04. I had taken an hour long shower.

I smirked at how I let time get away from me.

I checked the flier again and reminded myself that the show was at 7. I didn't need to be ready for another six hours. I decided that I would spend the next six hours in comfort.

Opening up a drawer in my vanity, I pulled out a white fabric headband. I bent over and slipped it on over my hair that I was holding down with one hand. My hair was a bit long, so it stuck out of the back. I fixed a few stray hairs then exited my bathroom.

I made my way for my dresser and opened the drawer that contained what I called "comfort clothes." I grabbed a pair of black and white running shorts and a light blue tank top. I managed to get the shorts on without removing my towel, and then I slipped on my shirt. I smiled because my "comfort clothes" were doing just that.

I threw my towel into the hamper and closed my bathroom door. I then walked out into the hallway of my apartment.

Mocha mewed at me from the kitchen. It was then I remembered that I hadn't fed him that morning.

"Oh Mocha. I'm sorry buddy."

I hurried over to the kitchen and fixed my cat's hunger problem as quickly as I could.

When I placed his bowl now full of food into its usual spot, I heard my own stomach growl. This prompted a quick search of my kitchen cabinets and fridge to find something to eat.

After turning up nothing, I checked everything again, this time with lower standards.

Still nothing.

I sighed as I realized that I would have to leave my apartment to get food. On my way out of the kitchen en route to my bedroom, I flipped the lights off.

When I entered my bedroom, I went straight for my closet. I found my strap sandals and slipped them on. After I had gotten my shoes on, I checked how I looked in the mirror in the corner.

"I look like a winner," I joked.

I then began the search for my keys and wallet.

My wallet was easy to find, as I had placed it on my desk before I crashed.

My keys were a different story. I looked all over my desk and night stand, and couldn't find them. As I walked out into the living room, I asked Mocha "You know where my keys are kitty?"

"Mew."

"Thanks for the help."

After searching in between the cushions of the couch and under the coffee table and in the fridge, I found my keys in the potted plant on my kitchen counter. Because that's normal.

I exhaled through my nose with annoyance for myself.

"I'll be back in a bit Mocha."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: And part two of the Monday June 10 update! Sorry it's a little late, but our air conditioning broke so it was like writing in a sauna. Anyway. Read. Review. Enjoy. Illustrate. I want to thank everyone for their reviews already and want to thank everyone for nearly 1000 total views! Y'all rock! The next update should be pretty interesting guys!

Thanks,

sm

* * *

Chapter Ten.

I unlocked my apartment door and nudged it open slightly. My arms cradled the large brown paper bag that contained my burrito lunch. I tried to balance my keys, wallet, and food while pushing open the door with my back.

"Mew."

"Hi Mocha. I'm back."

I maneuvered my way into the living area of my apartment, and placed the lunch bag on the coffee table. From there, I threw my keys and wallet on the couch and began to grab for my phone. After feeling nothing where my phone should be, I began to get worried.

I opened my lunch bag, thinking my phone may be in there. It wasn't. I looked on the floor and still couldn't see it. I looked in the kitchen and outside my apartment and still wasn't able to find my phone.

Concerned about my forgetfulness, I went into my bedroom. My phone wasn't on the bed, or the night stand, or desk, or anywhere on the floor. I rushed into the bathroom.

I found it sitting there on my bathroom counter.

I breathed a sigh of relief and grabbed it. Retreating back to my living room, I checked it to see if I had missed anything.

One Missed Call From Marshall Lee.

That's weird. I hesitated on what to do next. Marshall had called about 30 minutes ago. If he really wanted to talk to me, he'd call again or text. Maybe he was waiting for me to call him back. But what if he called me when he didn't really mean to call me? Did he leave a voicemail?

My phone suddenly began vibrating in my hand while I was contemplating all of these options.

Marshall Lee Calling.

"Hello?"

"Benji! It's Marshall!"

"I know!"

"Right. Caller ID."

"Yea."

I uttered a small chuckle. I could sound so unattractive at times.

"So anyway," Marshall began, brushing off my moment of ugliness, "I just was calling to see if you were coming still tonight?"

While Marshall asked his question, I was getting comfortable on the couch and opening up my burrito. When his question came to an end, I was in the middle of my first bite.

"Of course," I said with a mouthful of burrito.

"Are you, are you eating something?"

I swallowed my bite.

"No—yes. I'm eating lunch. I accidentally slept in past breakfast and I don't have any groceries really so I had to go get lunch."

Why did I tell him all that? He didn't ask about my day, just if I was eating something.

"Ah, I'm sorry Benji. You should've called me! We could've done lunch or something! And slept in? You texted me at like 5 this morning."

"I did text you at 5. I had fallen asleep on my cat until like 4 and then texted you."

"Oh. Anyway Benji, I want you to bring a blanket with you tonight! And wear a tank top!"

I looked down at what I was wearing now.

"Would running shorts be okay to wear too?"

"I'm sure you'd look cute in anything."

I didn't respond to Marshall's compliment.

"I'm just joking Benj," Marshall laughed awkwardly, "anyway, did you catch the first part?"

"Yea. Blanket. Why?"

Good Benji. Long developed sentences. This is helping you make friends.

"For our date silly."

Date? What? Date? Ugh.

"Benji. Joking. Again. Sheesh."

"Oh, yea. Right. Sorry."

"No worries. See you tonight?"

"Right!"

With that, I hung up before I could make a bigger fool of myself.

I put my phone on the couch and finished the burrito I had started mid-conversation with Marshall.

I can't understand why, but every time I'm around Marshall, or even around him, I get super uncomfortable and forget how to talk like a normal human being. I'm articulate! Why does it stop when I'm talking with him.

Out of frustration, I threw my head back against the top of the couch.

After a bit, I realized that I had about four and half hours to kill before I had to get ready for Marshall's concert. I spent this time cleaning the apartment and doing laundry. I lived the life of a middle-aged housewife.

When the bathroom had been cleaned, I saw that it was 3:30, an hour before I had wanted to start getting ready. I wandered into the kitchen and began to search my cabinets. After climbing atop my fridge to get access into the small cabinets, I had scrounged up enough ingredients to make something for Marshall.

I had always baked something for my friends whenever they had a big event or celebration. I was known for it back home, and this seemed like an opportunity to integrate it into my Austin life.

After mixing all the basics, I slid the cookie sheet into the oven and went to get ready while they baked.

With my closet doors wide open, I had to pick out what exactly to wear. Marshall had said he wanted me to wear a tank top or a UT shirt. He seemed more adamant about the tank top, so I went for that section of my closet. I slid the hangers on the bar until I had gone through them all. I went through them all again and decided on a black tank top with a light blue Aztec pattern across the chest. I threw the shirt on the bed and began to look for the second half of my outfit. I had just bought a pair of red jeans and wanted to wear them, so I pulled them out, and they joined the shirt on the bed.

I then went into the bathroom to start the process of making myself look presentable. I pulled off the headband I had been wearing since that morning and found my hair to spring back up where it had been held down. I brushed it to no avail. I tried putting a little water in it, and finally had some success. After styling it the way I wanted to, I sprayed with my liquid cement.

When my hair was fixed, I brushed my teeth and put on some deodorant. I decided that was all I was going to do, and that I would just wear my glasses to the concert because I knew my eyes had been through a lot the night before.

Semi-pleased with my appearance, I walked back into my bedroom. I shed the tank I was currently wearing and slipped on the planned one. I was about to walk over to my dresser to retrieve a pair of underwear when I stopped.

Maybe I won't wear underwear tonight.

I slipped off my running shorts and grabbed the red jeans and slipped them on over my bare private parts and butt. I zipped them up and buttoned them. I sat down on the bed and rolled up the legs on the jeans to about mid-calf.

Before I picked a pair of shoes out, I checked how I looked in the mirror.

I guess I looked fine. Not exactly "date-wear" but this wasn't a date.

I strode over to the closet and picked out a pair of brown leather huarache sandals. I slipped them on and was about to walk out of my room when I remembered Marshall's other request.

The top of my closet held all of my extra blankets, and I reached up to get one. I grabbed a teal one with the university's logo on it. I folded it over one arm and walked out of my bedroom, shutting the door behind me.

I placed the blanket on the counter next to where I had my moved my wallet, keys, and phone. I opened the oven and the cookies looked perfectly done. I grabbed an oven mitt and pulled them out. Poking a toothpick in each of them, I found they were all perfectly cooked.

I grabbed a spatula and a paper plate. After transferring them to the plate, I slid the plate into a large plastic bag and zipped it up.

I checked the time on the microwave and saw that it was 5:40. I knew it would take about 30 minutes to get there, so I decided that then was as good a time as any to leave.

Gathering all my items and balancing them was a challenge in itself, but I managed to make it to the car, pausing in the middle to lock my apartment and tell Mocha goodbye.

I arranged everything in my car and backed out of my spot. I drove out of the garage and headed to the show Marshall had invited me to.

Let's do this Benji.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Part one of the Thursday June 13 update! This chapter is a bit long and has a surprise at the end(; As always, read, review, enjoy, etc. etc. Thanks again for all the kind words and helpful reviews! Be on the lookout for the next update chapter update!

Thanks,

sm

* * *

Chapter Eleven.

Rhett's was quite abuzz with various members of the diverse Austin community. I uncomfortably stood near a wall, underneath a neon beer sign.

I thought about buying a drink. I turned 21 about three months ago and haven't really taken advantage of the benefits that legality grants.

In the middle of my decision process, I saw a rather large white man make his way to the center of the stage. He wore a black Hawaiian shirt with big green palm trees printed all over. His shorts were khaki cargos with stains and more than a few holes. His obviously dyed and thinning hair was dyed and slicked back with what I could only assume was pure gasoline. And he was either blind or thought that it was bright in the dimly lit bar because he wore dark black sunglasses with even darker lenses.

"Welcome all to Rhett's!"

His voice boomed without the microphone he was speaking into, and with it, stopped every conversation that was going on.

"I'm Rhett! Tonight is the long awaited 'Night of Awestiness.'"

Massive applause ensued from the large crowd that was beginning to form at the front of the stage. I decided to stay where I was. I had a good enough view of the stage without risking my personal safety.

"First up we have a brother and sister group. These are pretty awesome kids, so, give it up for The Abadeers!"

I did as I was told and began clapping for the first band. When I saw Marshall walk out onto the stage with a music stand and a red electric guitar, I clapped even louder.

"Damn," I thought to myself, "I was really looking forward to seeing him work a puppet."

With Marshall was a girl who looked very similar to him, and, based off of the introduction Rhett had given, I assumed that she was Marshall's sister. She had a black and white bass strapped across her chest and carried a music stand with her as well.

The two siblings took about ten minutes to set up their amps and get positioned on the two stools sitting in the middle of the stage. I looked at Marshall as he balanced his guitar on his knee. He had one foot resting on the top rung of the stool, and the other hung at the side of his seat. There was a microphone by his mouth. He sat and waited while his sister was checking the sound of the amp one last time before they began. From where I was, I couldn't really see any detail in Marshall's face. All I could see was that he was wearing a pair of black jeans and a white t-shirt with a red and black plaid shirt over it.

After I finished looking at what he was wearing, I made my way back up to his eyes, only to find them looking right at me. I smiled and did a half wave with my hand. He did the same back to me and I laughed and looked away out of embarrassment.

Marshall's sister had finished her last minute sound check, and was now sitting on the stool opposite her brother.

"Good evening y'all," she began.

"She's Marcy," Marshall chimed, "he's Marshall" she added, then with unison "and we're the Abadeers."

An eruption from the crowd came.

Neither sibling wasted any time, and with a "One, two, three, four," their show began. I didn't really remember much of the show. My distance from them made it hard to hear what they were singing, but I liked what I heard. Both of their voices blended well with each other and they had chemistry on stage that only a brother and sister could have.

After five songs, they both looked pretty tired. They had gotten up from their stools and moved around the stage. Marshall's hair was sticking to his forehead and his cheeks were red. Marcy was in better shape than her brother, and she wore less clothing that he did, so she didn't seem as winded.

When the current song they were singing ended, Marcy immediately took the microphone off the stand and into her hand.

"Alright y'all. We have one more song to sing for you guys, and this is a song that we traditionally do at the end of our shows. Have any of you guys seen the movie Breakfast at Tiffany's?"

Another eruption from the crowd, and some looks of curiosity came from the bar. I myself shot a puzzled look onto the stage.

"Awesome! Well I'm going to be singing Moon River from Breakfast at Tiffany's, and Marshall will be playing it acoustically."

With that, Marshall quickly went off the stage and came back with a dark brown acoustic guitar.

"The reason that we do this song," Marcy began as she put her bass down on its stand, "is because it was the only way that we could get our grandmother to come to our shows when we first started. She would always sing it to us when we were little, and I guess she wanted us to sing it to her for once."

Marcy sat on the stool as Marshall began to tune the acoustic guitar.

"Unfortunately, our grandma has passed away, so, in her honor, we sing this song for her at all of our shows."

Marshall finished tuning, and crossed his arms on the guitar. He made eye contact with Marcy and began to play.

Marcy began to sing the song from the iconic movie beautifully. I found myself singing along quietly from where I was. Gradually, I closed my eyes and began to sway to Marcy's voice and Marshall's guitar.

As Marcy sang the final note, I opened my eyes and began to clap loudly. Both siblings bowed and quickly moved their belongings off stage, and Rhett came back on stage.

"Let's hear it one more time for The Abadeers!"

The crowd responded with cheers.

"Next up we have the beautiful Yvon-"

I tuned out Rhett. His voice became too annoying.

I stood against the wall, not sure what to do. I checked my phone and saw that it was 7:50. I played with it a little then locked it.

From behind, I heard a newly familiar voice.

"Hiya Benji."

I turned around into a hug from Marshall. He had embraced me before I could move my arms, so they ended up bent at the elbows, pressed against my chest, with my hands right by Marshall's face.

Marshall hugged me tight, and I couldn't really talk.

"Hi Mar—Marshall," I said exasperated.

He let go of me and took a step back. Marshall was just as out of breath as I was.

"How'd you like it?" he managed to get out between breaths.

I smiled. He looked really cute. He had taken off his red and plaid button up, and stood before me in a white t-shirt.

"It was awesome! You guys sounded great!"

"Could you see us from back here?"

I nodded. Marshall smiled. I looked behind him, and I could see his sister coming towards where we were standing. Before I could say anything to Marshall about his approaching sibling, she made sure he knew she was on her way.

"Marshall! Do you have my keys? Go get me a drink. Hi I'm Marcy."

My minded tried and failed to keep up with this high energy woman. Up close, the two of them really looked similar. They even had the same birthmarks on their necks. Her voice was a little raspy, and I guessed it was because she sang her lungs out on stage not ten minutes ago. I missed her address to me, so I stood there in silence.

"Go get your own damn drink. Your keys are in your bag. Marcy, Benji, Benji, Marcy."

I shook myself from my silence.

"Hi, yea, I'm ugh—Benji."

"Figured."

Feeling like I needed to redeem myself, I thought of a compliment for Marcy.

"Your voice is beautiful. I loved the show."

She smiled.

"Thank you Benji," she turned to Marshall, "are you leaving?"

Marshall nodded.

"Nice meeting you Benji, and Marshall call me tomorrow or something."

Marcy smiled and left the two of us standing there.

"Do you want a drink?"

Once again, the debate on whether or not to drink started in my mind. But as I was reaching the decision to drink, Yvonne Gregory had made her way on stage and started to introduce herself. I didn't catch anything that she said.

Marshall grabbed my hand and started to make his way behind the crowd of people at the foot of the stage.

"Let's get out of here. I hate this bitch singing."

I agreed with silence. I didn't fully realize that Marshall was holding my hand until we took a few steps from where we were. His hands were rough. But he held my hand with a balance of firmness and softness. Curious for more, I moved my fingers from between his thumb and index finger and interlaced them with his. His long fingers were loose for a second, and then squeezed back into my hand. I felt his wrist bands tickling the top of my palm and I pulled myself closer to Marshall as we passed through the growing crowd.

Abruptly, Marshall stopped close to the bar. Rhett stood on the inside of the bar, and exchanged a few words with Marshall. I couldn't hear them over Yvonne's singing. I also was too caught up in holding Marshall's hand that I had kind of tuned out my other senses. Then, I felt Marshall's hand leave mine. I looked to his face, and saw that he was shaking hands with Rhett.

When they finished their parting words, Marshall looked back to me. He smiled and without looking took my hand in his once more. Quickly, I adjusted my fingers to where they rested in the notches between his.

Marshall pushed the door open with one hand and held it for me as we walked out into the parking lot of the bar.

The sun had set, and the light from a street lamp was guiding through the gravel parking lot.

"Sorry, I couldn't be in there any longer."

"It's alright. I actually thought you were in the last band, so I had planned to stay the whole night. Leaving early is a pleasant surprise."

Marshall laughed, "no, I am not a puppet."

I laughed along with him.

"So, where did you park?"

Oh yeah.

"Oh, over here. I'm the white SUV."

I pulled out my keys and unlocked my car. I opened the back hatch and stood a few steps from the rear of the car as it opened.

When it opened, I walked to the back of my car and picked up the plate of cookies I had made Marshall.

"This is a tradition that I have. I make my friends cookies for any big event they may have. So ugh—here are your cookies."

Marshall smirked. He didn't say anything, just smirked.

"They're Red Velvet cake batter cookies. I figu-"

Before I could finish, Marshall took the plate of cookies, placed them back into my car, and embraced me in a hug. This time, my arms were off to the sides, and I could embrace him back. My forehead rested on his shoulder. It was really…nice. My arms wrapped themselves around the middle of his back. His were above my shoulders, on the top of my back. I closed my eyes for a second. He was a little cold, but I figured that it was just because he had been sweating and the temperature had dropped.

Marshall stepped back and placed his hands right above my elbows. Mine were grabbing his elbows.

"Thank you very much. You rock."

I smiled.

"Of course."

We held eye contact the entire time. I only broke to look at his lips. They looked so soft. When I looked back up at his eyes, I could see they were looking at my lips. I hope I put on chapstick today.

Suddenly, I felt my face move slowly towards his. My eyes closed, and head turned.

Then I felt a firm hand on my butt and I jumped back a bit and opened my eyes. By the time they were fully wide, Marshall was running back towards Rhett's backwards.

"I'll be right back!"

What.

What just happened.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve.

I turned my head slowly to see if anyone had witnessed what I had just done. Fortunately, I only saw a crow sitting atop a lamp post.

I shook my head and covered my face with my hands. I began to rub my tired facial muscles. Waddling backwards, I sat down on the open end of my car, anxiously awaiting Marshall to return.

It was then when I realized that I was starting to feel really cold. Not wearing sleeves wasn't my best decision.

I started to wring my hands restlessly.

Then, I heard gravel crunching under feet. I looked to where the noise was coming from, and Marshall's figure was making its way towards me.

In order to avoid further embarrassment, I averted eye contact. I saw his shoes stopped right in front of me.

Looking up, I saw he was wearing his red and plaid shirt once again. I also saw his eyes staring into mine. Again, I felt a feeling well up inside of me. I tried to stop it before it manifested itself in action.

But then, Marshall started to lean in towards me. Out of shock, I didn't move. Before I could say anything, Marshall was a few inches away from my face. I guess my non-existent instincts kicked in, and I closed my eyes.

I waited to feel his lips on mine, but after an appropriate amount of time passed by, I didn't feel anything.

Peeking one eye open, I saw Marshall's wide-eyed face staring straight at me.

"Boo."

I huffed through my nose.

Marshall reached over to the cookies, and grabbed one. As he bit into it, I could tell he enjoyed it.

"These are awesome Benji."

"Thank you. I try."

Marshall smiled.

"So, did you bring a blanket?"

I reached behind me where I had placed the blanket. I pulled it onto my lap.

"As you asked. Why do we need a blanket?"

"You'll see."

Marshall winked. It made simultaneously excited and nervous.

I wiggled off the tailgate of my car and stood by Marshall in the parking lot. He walked over to the passenger side of my car, and I took that as the beginning of our "hang out." I closed the lift gate and swung around to my side.

As I sat down in my leather seat, I started up my car. I looked over to Marshall who was adjusting the power seating in the passenger seat.

I decided to take the opportunity to be in the lead for one of our conversations.

"Where to Miss Daisy?"

Marshall snorted. I smiled at my joke.

Point Benji.

"Do you know Richards State Park?"

"Yeah. Is that where I am headed to?"

"Yes sir."

I shifted the car into reverse and started to pull out from my parking spot. Once I could, I moved the gear shift to drive, and made my way out of the parking lot.

I turned left out of Rhett's so I could make it to the highway. Now that we were on the road, and Marshall was comfortable with the position of his seat, a calm silence came over the car.

Marshall ended it.

"Ask three questions about me that you are curious about."

I glanced quickly over to him and saw that he was looking at me now. I faced forward again and began to think of questions to ask Marshall.

Deciding to start with what I thought was an easy one, I asked Marshall "when and why did you start playing your music?"

"Hmm," Marshall started, "I was 5 when my grandmother gave me my first guitar. It was my Christmas present that year. You see," Marshall laughed as he reminisced, "my grandmother lived in Northern California during the sixties, so she pretty much was a hippie. My mom is the exact opposite of her, and only wanted me to play refined music like the piano and harp. When grandma caught wind of this, she decided that her rebellious phase wasn't quite done, and bought me a small guitar for Christmas."

I smiled and laughed throughout Marshall's story. I felt like I had just caught a glimpse of someone's personal life, and I enjoyed this opportunity.

"The card she gave me with it is taped to the back of my current guitar."

Luckily, we were stopped at a red light, and I looked over at him once again. He was looking forward, with a sentiment reading across his profile. I looked back forward, and knew that I should've dive deeper into this that I had gotten. I started to think about the next question.

"So, what's your next question?"

Marshall had changed his disposition quickly.

"I'm thinking!"

"I think you have a question, and you just don't want to ask it."

He was right. Dang it.

"Fine. Why me?"

"Why you? Hmm," Marshall began to blow air out from his mouth with a pattern, "well, you're really cute. And you seem to be really smart and knowledgeable. I also think that there's a lot of potential there for you and I to be honest," I shifted a little in my seat, "you just seem to be a really caring person. I mean, you braved a bar full of crazy drunks to see me sing on a stage with my sister. That's awesome. Plus you made me cookies, so that's double awesome. And I think the best thing about you is that you don't that you are all of these things. To you it's just routine, but to everyone else, it's amazingness."

I tried my best to pout cutely at Marshall. We were now on the highway nearing the exit that I needed to take for the park.

"Wait," I suddenly remembered, "don't all parks close at sundown?"

"It's Friday night, so Richards is open all night."

"Really? I didn't know that," I then took the opportunity, "that was my last question by the way."

Marshall gave me a look and a huff.

"Fine. So is it my turn?"

"If you so please."

"Good." Marshall gave no pause to ask his first question.

"Have you ever had a boyfriend before?"

I swallowed a little bit, and thought over the answer.

"Almost."

I could feel Marshall looking at me for a much more in-depth answer than that.

"We met freshman year. He was in a psych class with me and he was a really quiet kid that I would study with sometimes. We would eat lunch together every now and again and he would spend the night with me before we took tests so that we could study."

Immediately, Marshall had a follow up.

"Did you guys kiss?"

"Yeah," I answered embarrassedly.

"Did you guys make out?"

Now I was even more embarrassed.

"Yeah," I then felt the need to end this probe, "but that's all we did. After the class ended, we were still friends, but nothing ever happened again."

"Hmm. Okay."

What.

Was Marshall judging me for making out with a study buddy? I mean, come on. There are much better things you could be doing at 1 in the morning than reading about the corpus collosum. One of them was making out with your attractive study buddy.

Anxious to stop Marshall from judging me, I asked "next question?"

He started once again without hesitation.

"What's something about you that not too many people know about?"

Good. Something safe and not involving my sex life. Or lack thereof.

"Uhm," I began, laughing awkwardly, "well, when I was growing up, I did a bunch of activities. My mom wanted me involved in as much as I could possibly be in so that I could make friends or something. Anyway, I got really interested in dance, so from like, grade 2 to my senior year, I was a dancer."

I could tell Marshall was curious.

"So are you professionally trained? What can you do?"

"I am professionally trained. I almost went to a school in Canada for dance. But my parents—well my mom said that there was no profession to be had in dance, and that I should be a biology major at an Ivy League college. I'm half of that. And as far as what I can do, I'm trained in tap, jazz, hip-hop, ballet, and ballroom."

"Yea?"

"Yea," I laughed, then continued "and I took a bunch of singing lessons and acting lessons and did a lot of musical theatre."

"Really?"

"Yup. I was a part of the ensemble for five months my senior year for the New England tour of Anything Goes."

"That's so cool! So you can sing?"

"Not well, but yes I can sing."

"Oh I'm sure you're awesome."

Only my family and close friends back home knew this. I'm not entirely sure why I shared this with Marshall, but I felt really…really comfortable with him. It was almost as if he would want to know this information about me and that I was gifting it to him. I smiled to myself.

During our discussion, we had exited the highway and made a few turns, and now, I was maneuvering around the parking lot that was filled with other cars. I guess Marshall was right about them being open all night on Fridays.

I had managed to find a spot, and parked the car. I turned in my seat to look at Marshall.

"So last question?"

He smiled at me and responded with, "let's start walking. I'll ask it on the way."

With that I turned off the car and opened my door. Marshall did the same, and we soon met each other at the back of my car. I opened the lift gate and retrieved the blanket Marshall had told me to bring and he grabbed the plate of cookies.

Marshall eyed the awkward arrangement of the things we were bringing.

"Do you have a backpack or bag or anything like that?"

"Yeah!"

I climbed into the back of my car and crawled to where my head was in-between the two back seats. I reached down to the left seat and grabbed one of the reusable shopping bags that I used for groceries.

When I had it, I shimmied my way out of the back of the car and handed it to Marshall. From the light from the car, I could see a faint shade of red on Marshall's cheeks. He opened the bag and took the blanket from me and put it in the tote. He then put the cookies in and threw it over his shoulder.

He started to walk away, but I wouldn't let him get off that easy.

"Are you blushing?"

He turned around and came straight towards me.

"I was."

"Why?" I asked much more flirtatiously than intended.

"Your butt is amazing."

Really Marshall. Really.

I gave him a look conveying exactly that.

"Come on, let's go."

Marshall began to walk away again. I closed the back door of my car and caught up with him.

When we were walking side by side, I felt his hand slip into mine. Again, the feeling at Rhett's overcame me. It felt like he was a combination of soft sand paper and a puppy. I smiled in the dark, knowing he wouldn't see that he made me feel this happy.

After walking for a short while in silence, I became curious.

"So what's my last question?"


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: The much awaited Part One of the Monday June 17 update! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! I ended it with another cliff hanger(; Anyway, thank you to everyone who has reviewed and given me their input on the story. I hope that I have made it detailed enough to fill the outline, while making it open-ended enough to allow you guys to color it in, in regards to details and things like that. I would love to hear what some of y'all's (sorry guys, I'm a Texan. It was bound to happen.) interpretations of this story are!

As always, read/review/eat great food/illustrate/an Y.

Thanks,

sm

* * *

Chapter Thirteen.

Our shoes crushed fallen leaves under our feet. It was one of those moments of suspense where you could see sound. I could see the crunch and crack of these dried tree extensions. The suspense that Marshall had left in the air made my senses become incredibly acute.

Even though this tension hung in the air, Marshall kept walking in silence. He still held my hand in his, and was leading, even though we were even with each other.

"Marshall?" I started to kill my curiosity.

I could hear Marshall chuckle. It was like I was a mouse stuck in this cat's trap.

I heard Marshall open his mouth. I stopped walking for a minute, thinking that maybe this would be something big.

"Is there any particular reason you aren't wearing underwear? Again?"

Out of embarrassment I walked aimlessly ahead, not knowing where I was going.

Marshall caught up to me.

When he laced his hand in mine, I knew he had won.

"I don't know. I thought—I thought you might like it. You keep saying you like my butt."

"I do like your butt."

He led us forward.

"Do you find me attractive Benji?"

When Marshall asked this, he pulled me in closer to the side of his body. It was then I realized I was getting a little cold. Why did I wear this stupid tank top?

"Whoa whoa, you already asked your questions."

Silence. Once again, I knew Marshall had won.

"Yeah. Yes. Okay. Yes. I find you really attractive, and I'm not entirely sure why you're interested in a weird loner like me. That's why I'm nervous and mess up my words when we hang out because I'm just always on my toes because I'm afraid that if I make one mistake, you're going to realize that you'd be settling with me and go on to someone better."

Wow. So that's what word vomit feels like. Well, it stopped me dead in my tracks. I tried to hear for Marshall. I tried looking for him, but the moonlight was dim and I couldn't see.

"Marsh-" was all I could get out before I felt a hug surrounding my body. What I hoped was Marshall's body had warmed up and heated up my cold body. His arms wrapped below where mine began, and instinctually, I linked mine behind his head. I rested my head on his chest, and his chin sat atop my hair.

"Promise that you'll never say anything like that again. Everyone has their mistakes and their perfections. You're no less than anyone else."

I felt Marshall's words through his chest. I closed my eyes and felt the words through my head. I felt a warm drop of water drop from my left eye. It raced down my nose and barely missed my glasses. It must have been soaked up by Marshall's shirt, because as soon as it left my cheek, Marshall broke the hug.

"Promise?"

Shakily, I responded "Promise."

Wow. This got heavy quick. Almost like he had telepathy, Marshall grabbed my hand again and led us once again.

"Let's go sweet cheeks."

I laughed and rolled my eyes at this guy who had taken me on my first date.

I tried my hand at lightening the mood.

"So, can I ask why you had me wear a tank top?"

"Well," Marshall began, "I just really wanted to check out your arms."

"Really Marshall. Really."

Oh. Did I say that out loud? Oops.

"I'm just kidding," he said pushing me lightly, "I kind of wanted you to get really cold, so then I'd have to give you my shirt, and it'd be kind of cute. Also, if you kept it, it would mean we would have to see each other again."

I turned my head and tried to look at Marshall. I guess my eyes had adjusted to the lack of light finally and I was able to see him. He was looking forward. I think he was blushing.

"Are you bl-"

"We're here."

Marshall took the bag off of his shoulder. I looked around at our spot. I realized then that there were about 7 blankets spread across this clearing. On them were mostly couples and one young family. Marshall spread out the blanket on the ground. He took the cookies out and put them on a corner of the blanket.

I started towards where I wanted to lay down, but before I could, Marshall's hand stopped me.

"You cold?"

I was really cold now actually. The temperature had dropped and I had no sleeves.

Reluctantly, I said, "Yes."

In a flash, Marshall took off his red and plaid button up and put it around my shoulders.

"But won't you be cold now?"

Marshall laughed, "I like being cold."

He then plopped down on the blanket and grabbed a cookie. He patted directly next to where he was laying. I lowered myself to my knees and was about to lay down.

Then I thought, should I try to snuggle with him? Or should I stay a few feet away?

I decided the latter option was probably the safest, so I laid and gave Marshall some space.

"What the hell are you doing five feet away from me?"

I guess that was my invitation to come closer.

I wiggled my body closer to Marshall and now we were maybe six inches away from each other.

His arm snaked its way under my neck and to my shoulder. He pulled me in closer, and I was now angled upwards and snuggling with Marshall.

My arms folded between his body and mine. I looked up at Marshall. He looked at me. Because of the weird angle of view, his chin melded with his neck. I felt like this was a romantic moment, but I couldn't take Marshall seriously at this time.

"You're really pretty you know that?"

Marshall's voice was also a little distorted as he said this. I smiled a little and let out a giggle.

I felt comfortable with Marshall in this moment, and decided to take an advantage in one of our conversations.

"You really look like Jabba the Hutt you know that?"

I barely got it out before cracking up in laughter. I was happy no one was near us so that they couldn't hear my kind of annoying laugh.

Marshall rolled his eyes. Then, they caught mine.

"You think I look like Jabba the Hutt huh?"

For some reason, I decided that now was a good time to be a smart ass.

"I do. I do Jabba."

Suddenly, I felt Marshall's hand grabbing my side and moving up and down my rib cage tickling me.

My laughs then turned into pleas of "stop that" and "please".

Marshall persisted and then grabbed my sides and turned me over on my back once again. He pinned my arms down by my head so I couldn't put up a fight. He continued tickling me in this position.

I yelled out between painful laughs, "stop!"

Marshall then stopped tickling me and closed the space between our faces. His eyes closed slightly and in a very breathy voice, he responded, "make me."

Then. It happened.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Part Two of the Monday June 17 update! I have taken you guys off of the cliff, don't worry. But I also kind of put you near one at the end. ANYWAY. Thanks for the reviews (((cough cough, threats over leaving y'all on cliffs))) and as always read/review/illustrate/enjoy!

Thanks,

sm.

* * *

Chapter Fourteen.

All I heard was a giant crack. My body clinched. My face scrunched.

As soon as I began to relax again, I heard another boom. Once again my body went tight.

"Benji," I heard Marshall's voice say, "It's just the fireworks."

I peeked an eye open. Marshall was still holding me down, his face a few inches from mine. Behind his head, I saw a burst of color racing down the sky.

"They do them every Friday night at 11."

I smiled at Marshall.

"Sorry, I just get really scared with loud noises in the dark."

"That's kind of a specific fear…"

I felt myself blushing. I turned my eyes away from his out of embarrassment.

"I'm not scared of it," I began reluctantly, "I just was expecting you to kiss me, but I feel like there have been like 94,000 opportunities for us to kiss, and you haven't. I just," I paused here looking for the right words to say. I knew that I had exaggerated a bit with the whole 94,000 opportunities thing, so it had to be something serious.

But before I found the words to use, I felt Marshall's hand lift from my wrist and to my cheek. He turned my head to face. His eyes closed. The space between the two of us closed quickly. Marshall's lips pressed against mine. His top lip was right above my top lip and his bottom rested in between my two.

I then realized that I was kissing Marshall Lee. This guy I had met the day before, and had thoroughly embarrassed myself in front of. He was kissing me. Like, really kissing me.

After realizing he was kissing me, I then remembered that I should probably kiss him back. I moved my free arm behind his head. I think he knew that I had gotten through with my analysis and that I was kissing him back now. His other hand left my wrist and I connected my hands behind his head.

He pulled away from our embrace. I kept my eyes closed for a second, blindly searching for his lips.

I opened my eyes slightly to see that he was hovering near my face.

"I only kiss on the 94,001st opportunity."

I smiled and took the lead. I moved my head closer to his and started to kiss him. My back arched off of the ground as we began to make out on the blanket, under the firework show.

I felt his tongue at the opening of my mouth. I paused for a second. I pulled away from our kiss and rested my forehead on his.

"Could we—could we stop now?" I began, "I know I'm not great at this, and I don't want to go any further."

It was a lie. I just stopped because I was insecure and scared. As weird as it sounded, I wanted Marshall's tongue in my mouth. I just was scared about what would happen after it was in there.

I think Marshall could see through my lie. Despite this, he moved from his position above me to lying once again next to me. I turned on my side so he could see my worried expression. I felt his body form to the outside of mine.

I guess I'm a little spoon.

His hand found mine on my chest and he held it. I played with his fingers in my hand. Our feet tangled near the edge of the blanket.

"I'm sorry."

I was. I felt bad about being really stupid about this whole thing. I really should've allowed him to put his tongue in my mouth, but I was too weird about it.

"Don't be." Marshall squeezed my hand. "I don't want to rush you at all. I'm glad you told me something before we did more."

I nestled myself deeper into Marshall's warming presence.

"You're not a bad kisser by the way."

I blushed at Marshall's compliment. But then it got me thinking.

"Can I ask you another question?"

"Of course."

I swallowed the saliva that rested in my mouth. I was nervous for this question and more nervous for its answer.

"Have you ever had a boyfriend?"

It felt like I opened up a can of worms. Marshall's hand tightened a little. His body inched a bit away from mine.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to." I added, immediately regretting my question.

"No. It's fine. The answer to your question is yes. I have dated quite a few guys and I have had kind of a lot of boyfriends."

"Oh."

I wish I could've responded with something more meaningful and legitimate than that. But it was all I could think to say. I wasn't entirely shocked, and I wasn't disappointed or less attracted to Marshall.

"And I've done a lot of stuff with guys."

The answer to a question I didn't want to ask.

I now knew I opened up a can of worms.

"That's why I don't want to rush anything with you. Because honestly, I could fuck any guy I wanted to. With you, I want to see if things are more legitimate between us than just sex. I don't want to fuck you Benji. No, I do. But I don't want to until you are comfortable with it. And if that means that you have to get over your insecurity of being a bad kisser before we can do any more, I'm perfectly fine with us not doing anything sexual."

I smiled.

"And I don't want labels right now. I just want to get to know you. And I want you to get to know me."

My grin widened.

I wiggled back into my previous place with Marshall. I still couldn't think of anything to say, but I thought that this was a good non-verbal "yes."

He responded with holding me tighter.

We watched the fireworks light up the sky. After the show was done, a lot of the blanketers left the field.

I looked to Marshall. I knew that we weren't leaving.

"Wait a second. No one stays to watch this part of the show."

"Hm?"

"Watch."

I followed where Marshall had pointed. Out of the trees that surrounded the opening came what seemed like a million lightning bugs. They lit up the sky with a dim romantic glow.

Marshall's breathing began to get slower. I felt mine doing the same. I also felt a rather hard object pressing up against my butt.

I figured that it was my phone, so I maneuvered my hand to the crevasse between Marshall and I.

It wasn't my phone.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: I hoped you guys liked the mid-season finale last chapter and the mid-season break from then until now! Did I forget to tell you guys about that? Oops silly me(; But really, sorry about the suspense. I was planning this "mid-season" break for a while. Anyway, new chapter, and new update system. I'll try to get you guys 3 new chapters every week, but once again, no promises. Your reviews keep me going! Tell me what you think of this one, read/review/illustrate/enjoy!

Thanks,

sm

* * *

Chapter Fifteen.

"Umph," was all I heard from Marshall. I knew immediately what I had grabbed.

"Oh god," was all I could muster out of embarrassment.

"I thought you didn't want to move too quickly?"

I was blushing as I buried my hands in my face. This was a total embarrassment and I felt as if the whole night was now a disaster. I accidentally grabbed Marshall's…thing.

I sat up from our snuggling position. I rested my embarrassed face on my knees. Marshall could tell that I had become embarrassed in front of him once again. I felt his hand rub the back of my neck.

"Hey. I know it was an accident. Don't be embarrassed."

I turned my head slightly sideways on my knees.

"I know. I just wish I didn't do things like grab your…thing…or spill V8 juice on your white pants or try to kiss you multiple times."

"I'm glad you did those things."

What.

"What?"

"I'm glad you did those things. I didn't like those pants anyway. When you tried to kiss me, I got to stare at your face without you knowing. As for the grabbing of my dick, well I can't say that I didn't enjoy it."

Well. Now. That was quite possible the most romantic thing I've heard or seen or read or anything. Plus it was happening to me. For some reason, Marshall's words turned me on incredibly. I felt a different energy come over me.

I climbed on top his lying body and hovered my face near his. While lying there, I felt something hard on my crotch region. I guess I have a magic touch.

In the most sultry voice I could muster, I asked Marshall, "you wanna go back to my place?"

After I said it, I realized what I had just done. But before I could recant what I had said, Marshall had nodded yes, and I felt the firmness pulsate.

I guess romance makes me horny. This was weird. I hadn't felt this in a long time.

Even though most of my instincts told me to drop our next plans then and there, there were a few rebelling and telling me to follow my desires. For some reason beyond my understanding, I listened to them.

Again attempting to be sexy, I got up from our blanket, and began to walk back to the path where my car was parked. I had no clue where it was parked, so it was more of me swaying my hips awkwardly in no certain direction.

However, it worked. When I was about 15 feet away, I heard Marshall pick up our belongings and stumble to catch up to me.

Trying to keep this sexy charade going, while at the same time being reasonable and scared of being lost in a forest, I asked, "Can you carry me Marshall? I'm-"

Before I could finish my sentence, I was in Marshall's arms.

I hadn't a clue where this was going to go, but I was beginning to like the possibilities. I had always felt like I repressed my sexual side. I actually knew I repressed my sexual side. So exploring it ever so gingerly made me feel giddy. Or something like that.

While I was busy psychoanalyzing my new found sex drive, Marshall had gotten us back to my SUV. It felt like it was a longer walk from the car than it was to the car. Maybe Marshall flew or something.

Marshall let me down from his arms and I unlocked the car with a push of a button. He hurriedly threw the collection of things we had brought for our stargazing in the far back of my car and was in the passenger seat within seconds of closing the lift gate. I guess he was excited.

I started my car, but then realized I had no idea how to get back to my apartment. I decided that pulling out my phone (the thing that had started this whole mess) would have killed this new mood between Marshall and I. But I needed to get back to the apartment to see where this whole thing would go.

"Marshall," I pleaded, channeling my inner sex-kitten, "where am I going?"

Marshall uncomfortably adjusted in his seat.

Just an assumption here, but I think that all guys get four times more uncomfortable whenever they have "an urge."

He slowly started with the directions that would get me back to Rhett's. From there I knew where I was going.

I followed the directions Marshall had given. In the time it would take us to first get to Rhett's, then back to my apartment, I decided that I should be a tease.

At the first red light we came across, I tried to utter a weird moan-sigh like thing. It was supposed to be sexy.

Marshall adjusted after I did this, so I guess he thought it was.

The next red light, I flipped down my mini-mirror that was in the flap above the driver's-side window. I opened my lips the way I thought someone like Marilyn Monroe or Olivia Wilde or Glen Close would do.

Once again Marshall adjusted. I liked winning our little game.

The following red lights were more successful attempts at getting Marshall to adjust in his seat uncomfortably.

When I pulled into my apartment building's car garage, I knew that I had Marshall right where I wanted him.

I stopped the car in a spot near the door to my apartment. I opened the door and left my seat daintily. Marshall nearly stumbled onto the ground as he got out of my car.

"You might want to unhook the seatbelt first," I continued my sexy charade, "just saying."

When I got to my door, I suddenly realized that I was about to invite a horny basically stranger into my apartment, and that I had been teasing said horny basically stranger for the past 25 minutes.

Thoughts began to fill my head as I unlocked the door and sauntered in. Marshall trotted in about a minute or so later.

"Am I going to have sex with this guy?" I thought to myself, "Is this really happening?"

I looked over at Marshall who now was standing near my fridge. His eyes were so, deep. Was he about to do terrible things to me? Or were we going to spend a lovely evening together?

I couldn't figure out what Marshall's intentions at that moment were. I began to think of ways to go about finding out.

Well. I could undo my pants and see if anything happens. Nah, that's probably too brash. Also, too much effort.

I could ask him straight up. Maybe. But if he says something I'm not expecting, it'd kill the mood and I'd have to drive a horny stranger back to a weird dive bar.

I could do the mating dance of the Yele Tribe of Lesotho, and see if he responds with the proper sacrifice of three chickens. Better, but not quite. I had just cleaned the kitchen a few days ago, and chicken blood is hard to get out.

Maybe I could kiss him. And start to go down his neck like I was intending to do something else. Depending on if he pulls me back up or lets me go on, I'll know what Marshall Lee's intentions are.

I dropped my keys, wallet, and phone on the ground as I headed towards my bedroom. I took off Marshall's shirt he had brought me and let it fall.

I dove onto my bed and heard Marshall power-walk in my hallway. He stood at the doorway to my bedroom.

My index finger bent as I dared him to join me on my bed. He walked slowly, taking off his shoes and socks as he approached closer.

He placed his right knee next to my left hip, and looked to me for approval for the next motion.

I smiled.

His left knee found itself next to my right hip, and he put his elbows next to my ears. His face hovered above mine and our chests melted into one.

I tried to blink like Betty Boop.

Marshall looked confused.

This worried me.

"Am I doing something wrong?"

What.

Why did I ask that? My plan is foiled!

"No," Marshall's voice cracked, "No. It's just. Are you sure this is what you want to do right now? Because if it is, and you're completely sure of it, I'm totally on board. But if you're just doing what you think I want you to do, or doing something you don't want to do, then we can stop and just snuggle again or something."

Wow. I felt my gaze soften on Marshall's face as I watched this guy who I knew wanted to get me naked tell me it was okay if we didn't have sex. I smiled, and placed my hands on either side of Marshall's face.

"What about making out? Can we do that? I'm okay with that."

Marshall smiled and closed the space between our two faces.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: So guys, this is the last chapter of 13. This has been a fun little "season," and I have loved getting to know all of you guys. I hope you all have wonderful amazing lives and are amazing people in general. I thank you each from the bottom of my heart for loving this story because it was you guys who moved it along. I will miss getting reviews filled with you guys' compliments. And, as always, READ/REVIEW/ENJOY.

Thanks,

sm.

* * *

Chapter Sixteen.

I woke up shirtless and in running shorts nestled against Marshall Lee who was wearing…well, he actually wasn't wearing anything. As I gained morning consciousness, I remembered what had happened the night before.

Marshall and I made out. And made out some more. A little more. A bit more. It was nice.

After that, I made us waffles and ice cream and changed into what I was wearing at the moment. I remember it was late, something like 4:13 in the morning, and I really didn't care if Marshall saw me shirtless or not.

When I walked out of the bathroom after changing out of my outfit for the night into my trusty running shorts and nothing else, I remember Marshall saying, "Wow."

Recalling this, I nuzzled by back deeper into Marshall's chest. He adjusted a bit and grunted.

I went back to remembering what else happened.

We ate the waffles on the bed, and watched a few episodes of some reality TV show on Netflix. I looked to my night stand where I saw the plates that had a few remnants of waffles and melted ice cream on them.

"Benji these are amazing." I remember Marshall saying.

I think that we held hands after that and I eventually fell asleep, leaving the part where Marshall shed his clothes a mystery to me. For some reason it didn't bother me that I was snuggling with a naked stranger. Oh well.

Deciding to be a tease, I turned around, and Marshall and I's chest were facing each other. I nestled my head onto the top of his chest and wrapped my arms around his somewhat cold body. I tangled my legs in his. It was then I found out he was wearing silk boxers instead of the assumed nothing.

This made me smile. I made myself think that if I was any other guy, Marshall would've been naked, as would I.

I made my way up to his lips. I pressed them against mine and left a full, long kiss on the sleeping Marshall. I think this fully woke him up, because his eyes fluttered open to find mine wide eyed looking into his.

"Good morning!"

I really am a fool for thinking that I am ever at an advantage with Marshall. I let my guard down and Marshall took advantage of my vulnerability and rolled on top of me, pinning my wrists down with his hands.

"Good morning."

He kissed me gently, and kept doing so. I closed my eyes softly and started to once again make out with Marshall. His lips were surprisingly soft. He had a little scruff on his face which made my lips tingle.

Just as I started to kiss back with a little more passion, I felt Marshall's lips leave mine and start on my neck. This was a new sensation that I…I loved.

I gasped a little and opened my eyes.

"Mar—Marshall."

"Yes?"

I didn't know what to say, so I guess he took that as a sign for him to keep going. Which it kind of was.

He moved down to my collar bone. Ugh. My collar bone was really bony and stuck out. I was too skinny. I winced a little as he kissed it.

Marshall then moved to the top of my torso and my nipples. He started kissing them and I moaned. Well, I think it was more like the sound an Elk makes when it wants food.

He moved to my abdomen. I knew full well where this was going and I did nothing to stop it. He kissed my hips and started to pull my shorts down a little bit then stopped. He went back up to my abdomen.

Slowly, Marshall made his way back up my body and was finally hovering over my face.

"Don't try to out-tease the tease" he said with a wink.

He then rolled off of me and walked into the hallway out of my bedroom, leaving the blanket that had been covering us on the ground.

I threw my head back on the pillow and sighed.

This boy.

I was just about to doze back off to sleep when I heard from the corner of the room a judgmental, "Mew."

"Mocha. Don't judge me. I'm just a little…aroused and excited is all. Same way with you and Catnip."

I heard Mocha's collar jingle and saw him walk out of my bedroom door.

I followed Marshall and Mocha's example and got out of bed. I then realized how embarrassing it would be to walk out into my living room in my current state. However I couldn't think of any solutions, so I just, tried to hold it down with my hand as I awkwardly walked into the main area of my apartment.

Marshall was in my kitchen feeding Mocha. I smiled when I saw this.

I was glad they were getting along so well.

I joined them in the kitchen. Luckily, my current state had been relieved.

When I got onto the tile floor, Marshall was leaning against the countertop watching me walk over. When I was a few feet away, I made for the opposite counter. But apparently, Marshall had different plans.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me into a hug. A half-naked hug with a stranger in my kitchen as my cat eats his breakfast. Lunch?

I then realized I had no idea what the time was.

From my position in the hug, I could turn my head a little more and see the clock on my microwave.

10:13.

* * *

POST SCRIPT.

THE SECOND SEASON OF "_13" _HAS BEEN APPROVED. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN? WHY A FOLLOW UP SEQUEL/SEASON OF COURSE. STAY TUNED FOR UPDATES Y'ALL.

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